Old Enough
by richards in boxes
Summary: Their relationship was still strong after sixteen years. So Stan and Kyle liked to have a fling with a third guy now and then. But Clydeslist probably wasn't the best place to look for fun. Now a pervy blonde boy won't leave them alone. (AU!LittleKenny and 30something Stan/Kyle, Stan/Kyle/Kenny)
1. Chapter 1

A waitress slammed the mug of ale onto the table with a sudden thud. It caused Stan to jerk and his attention was stolen from the redheaded man seated directly across from him. Looking nefariously at the waitress, he picked up the perspiring cup.

"Thanks," Stan muttered in mock sincerity.

"When yall fellas fixin' to leave anyway?" the waitress crooned.

"What's the hurry?" Kyle asked, hunched over a plate of cooling casserole. The diner had surprisingly fine cuisine given its shady nature. It was a tiny bar and grille with dim lighting just off the main stretch of road that ran through their mid-sized little suburb. Snowflakes fell in seamless zigzags outside. Despite the wintery mountain weather, it was quite warm outside for this time of year. The sun hanged low in the sky and bombarded the redheaded man's face with subtle burgundy, mixing with the small curls that hanged in his eyes.

"Well," the waitress responded impatiently, placing a hand on her waist. Her voice was surprisingly adept at feigning sincerity. "Some of the girls've already gone home fer the night. And Y'all haven't paid yet."

"So?" Stan asked, his patience waning. His finger danced across the tabletop where a small packet of salt had spilt next to his plate.

"So the night crew will have to take care of yer tab," she replied with slow deliberate articulation. Kyle smiled across at his boyfriend.

"I think she wants a tip, dude," the redhead gleaned. He opened his tan jacket and produced the wallet from his inside pocket. "What is it normally? %5?"

"Dude, I don't know," muttered Stan. He ruminated over the small paper tab that sat unattended, the waitress's fingers hovering eagerly next to it.

"Okay, well here," Kyle replied, dismissing his boyfriend. He produced a couple of one dollar bills and presented it to the waitress. "Should be more than enough for the total bill!" He beamed with a smile. She considered it with blank expression.

"There was the dozen or so coffee refills..." She said, her eyebrows creasing incredulously.

"The free ones?" Kyle asked, never breaking his smile. The waitress sighed and snatched the dollar bills from his hand, no longer interested in the faux niceties. Stomping away, she barely heard the young redhead's cheerful goodbye.

"Bitch," Stan grumbled, resting his elbows on the table. A pitiful frown painted his lips. "I think our guy isn't gonna show."

"Yeah, looks like it's just us tonight," Kyle replied in agreement. He settled back in the corner of his side of the booth, tracing a light trail up Stan's leg with his shoe. "No big, I guess. Clydeslist is dubious like that. I told you we should have gone on OkCupidme."

"It takes longer to meet people on there!"

"Yes," Kyle responded with condescension in his voice. "But the people there aren't as flaky. Or creepy."

"Fine," Stan muttered. He fixed the hitch on his studded belt and pulled off his black beanie, setting it on the table. His jet black hair was a tousled mess underneath and covered his ears which sported rainbow plugs. "Fucking sucks, I'll be at work before we get a chance like this."

"You don't have to worry about work for five more days, chill," Kyle replied. His foot massaged Stan's knee. The raven sighed and flashed a tired smile.

"Guess you'll just be fucking me tonight," he said, his eyes filling with more of the exuberance he'd slowly lost over the past two hours. His ass ached against the wooden booth and his legs were stiff from waiting on a date that never showed.

"Fucking?" Kyle replied, a mock expression of surprise touching his face. "I thought we made love, Stanley!"

"Ha," Stan chortled sarcastically. His eyes scanned the room, looking for any possible sign that maybe their date had simply not recognized their faces when he came in. The small diner was packed but calm. The sounds of silverware and plate clatter mixed with small chitchat, muffling their own seedy conversation. "Babe, we've been together 16 years. I think it's fine if we just fuck."

"Yeah," Kyle sighed with a grin. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand, intertwining their fingers. He caught sight of Stan's deep blue orbs and admired the messy emo fringe decorating the raven's forehead. They weren't teenagers anymore, but Stan had never lost his edgy goth look. Dressed in black from head to toe, Stan was a rock star compared to most people. And Kyle loved it. Tonight he was in a mood, and he looked forward to their evening together, despite not having a third. "Sucks. That guy was cute. Boyish face with pretty blonde hair. So skinny too!"

"We'll try again," Stan replied and rubbed the other man's hand with his thumb. "It's hard finding other gay dudes in this town."

"Yeah, all the pretty ones live in Denver," Kyle sighed. He fantasized what it would like to be caught in the middle of that luscious anonymous internet booty call and his beloved Stan. It caused his groin to stir excitedly.

Kyle forced the thoughts from his head and scanned the diner. Certainly, there was no sign of the man they'd hoped to meet, but it couldn't hurt to look. Maybe he might be able to use the scrupulous intuitions he'd inherited from his father to spot another attractive gay couple in the room. It wouldn't be the first time he'd find an impromptu pickup and drag him back home. But the last time he'd done that was back in college when he and Stan shared a dorm. Campus was filled with sexually energized young gay men. Plenty of nights had found he and Stan with a moaning rock hard guy between their sheets. But since moving back home, the well had gone dry.

A waitress with baggy eyes traipsed past with a plate of french fries, catching Kyle's idle gaze. She wandered to the corner of the diner and slammed the plate down on the table. Its occupant jumped, wide eyed at the irritated woman. The shaggy haired blonde boy muttered a curse in response.

"Call me a cunt again, you little shit. And after I bring you free food!" the waitress glowered. "You may have the pity of my boss, but I know you're just a little con artist."

"Go get laid, or something!" the boy responded, his voice high and childish. He grabbed the strings dangling from his hood and tightened them angrily. The waitress gave a huff and wandered away, disappearing quickly into the kitchen. When his eyes lowered he immediately met Kyle's half interested gaze. Gasping, he looked away and stuck a fumbling hand into his pocket. He pulled a flip phone from his pocket and pretended to be interested in whatever was on the screen. Nibbling on a fry, he glided his thumb across the buttons.

"You wanna get moving? We've got beer in the fridge," Stan offered, suddenly breaking Kyle's concentration. The redhead regarded him and treated him with a warm smile.

"Sure," said Kyle. They leaned across the table and shared a brief kiss. When he pulled away, he couldn't help but notice the blonde's stare. Kyle offered a grin and waved. The blonde blushed and looked back down to his phone. Kyle had caught people staring at him when he kissed Stan, but for some reason it always slightly intrigued him when he was the object of curiosity of random onlookers. That the onlooker was a kid was charming in a strange way.

For some reason, the boy was familiar to him. The blonde was practically swimming in his big orange hoodie, which was covered in stains. The phone was scratched and scuffed up. He obviously didn't have a lot of money. None of these facts rang any bells, but Kyle couldn't kick the interest in placing the identity.

Kyle stuffed his wallet into his jeans pocket and slid out of the booth, catching Stan's hand on the way up. The night was still young and he was eager to get home. They both were. The last rays of sunlight poured in when they opened the diner door. As he let the raven exit first, Kyle chanced one more long look over to the table in the back corner, hoping to try and put a name to that face.

Surprisingly, the face was eagerly awaiting him to use the door. The blonde's eyes were a deep blue of thrilled gratification. Kyle couldn't be sure if the boy had been smiling at him. He didn't have time to tell. The boy, whose height barely came up to Kyle's shoulders, quickly moved past him and offered a quick thanks on his way out the door. Stan was waiting for him outside. As their hands hooked together for the walk home, Kyle couldn't help but hope he'd see the kid again.

.-.

"Fucking harder!" Kyle cried into the pillow. His fingers gripped the corners of the sheets and tugged. The black cloth was bunched in the opposite corner, completely unkempt and unhooked from the corners of their king sized bed. He would have to remake it tomorrow and swap out for cleaner covers. The distracting thought amusingly passed through his brain before being replaced with the overwhelming sensation of Stan's cock pulsing against his prostate. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he unclenched his ass before pushing back onto his boyfriend.

"Gonna come," Stan groaned. His hips slapped furiously and his fingers clawed red marks into the soft flesh of Kyle's hips. Sweat matted his brow and he was from all rationality when the redhead pinned underneath him rolled his bottom. The warmth of that smaller man pressing into him pushed him closer.

They had given up on bed frames a long time ago. The noise made by creaky springs or box wood alerted their neighbors at too regular of intervals for easy tolerance. So now the bed rested directly on the floor where they both preferred it. It allowed them to pursue the aggressive love life they needed. The only sounds likely to pass through the walls were Kyle's strained whines or of skin slapping luscious skin.

Soft light from the parking lot crept in through cracks in their blinds and washed over their sweat and semen covered bodies. They could scantly see in the dark, which sometimes drove Stan mad. He was more of a with the lights on kind of guy, but Kyle almost always insisted they make love (fuck) without obtrusive glowing to distract his concentration. Snowflakes casted moving shadows over them from outside and the wind howled.

"Come inside me," Kyle begged raggedly. Stan nodded, absentmindedly assuming his boyfriend would know. His throat tightened when he felt that warm pressure building, and he grinded his teeth. Kyle was an absolute fox in bed and was able to turn any man into a geyser. Tonight was a special occasion since both had abstained from orgasm for days in preparation for their expected threesome. "Fucking do it!"

"A-alright, faggot," Stan cursed, slapping the redhead on the ass. Hard. The noise prefaced a loud banging and the sounds of Kyle's muffled whines. Pressing his forehead to the back of his boyfriend's neck, he prepared for the inevitable orgasm that was getting ready to rip through him. But the banging grew louder and suddenly he realized it wasn't just his heartbeat. It was the front door of their apartment.

Had they really been so loud? It was still early on a Friday night and almost everyone in their apartment bloc was busy! Too bad, though. Stan and Kyle had already had their fun. When they both became aware of the knocking it was already too late. Stan thrust forward in long agonizing strokes, his cum bursting in torrents into the redhead. He cursed and bit his lip before letting the orgasm drag out of him. He left Kyle's ass painfully empty when he pulled out, his sex slapping against the redhead's leg when he scrambled for a bath robe in the corner. Stan dully made note of the cum leaking on the bedspread from his boyfriend's tip.

"F-fucking... FUCK," Kyle cursed, the interruption ruining his own afterglow.

"I got it," Stan sighed before he finally got up. He didn't know which robe he'd grabbed but pulled it on anyway. Rising to his feet and stumbling out through the open bedroom door, Stan tightened the rag around him. It was obviously Kyle's since it was about a size too small. He sauntered his way quickly down the narrow path, the knocking almost physically painful. He nearly tripped on a shoe he had left in the hallway in his haste to get Kyle's clothes off when they got home. Stan kicked it out of the way and reached for the door, undoing the locks and throwing it open. "Yeah?" he greeted angrily.

Stan had expected a particularly problematic neighbor. Some lonesome slopey-faced hillbilly who never seemed to care what his neighbors might be doing. On any given weekend, he would pound on a random door and demand the occupant have a beer with him. What Stan hadn't expected was the tousle haired blonde swimming in an orange hoodie in front of him.

"U-uh, Kyle Broflovski?" the boy asked. He hugged himself and rubbed his arms, shivering. His breath came out in translucent clouds and his cheeks were flushed pink. His eyes were a deep blue. They were scanning Stan's barely covered body, stopping at the bulge of slight chest hairs peaking out the top.

"Um, no," Stan replied. He threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing down the hallway. "He's busy." Aware of the slowly softening length between his legs, Stan moved his lower half behind the door.

"Oh," the blonde replied coolly. He had to crook his neck upward since he peaked no higher than the man's chest. Softening his stance he reached into his pockets. "Can you go get him? I have something for him."

"And you are?"

"Um, he won't know me," the blonde replied after a long pause. "Just get him, it's really important."

"What? Dude, why are-" before Stan could question him, a voice from behind interrupted him.

"Who is it?" Kyle's voice echoed slightly. Rubbing his eyes with balled hands he nearly tripped over a stray shoe. "It's not Horace again, is it?" Stan turned to spot his boyfriend, feeling the blood rush from his face.

"K-Kyle! Clothes!" Stan gasped. Kyle's penis was rock hard and swayed between his legs. It seemed not to have occurred to him that there might be **people** at the door.

"Huh?" Kyle murmured and opened his eyes. Peering through the front door revealed a pair of dark eyes belonging to a young patron. The boy was staring, searching his body. Kyle fled into the kitchen, covering his sex with one hand. "Dude! Who the hell is that?!"

"I don't know!" Stan replied, agitated. He twirled and half closed the door, blocking the kid's view. "Who are you anyway?"

"Kenny," he replied. Kenny wore a disappointed grimace and tried to peak through a gap between Stan and the door frame. The attempt didn't go unnoticed.

"Well, **Kenny**," Stan's voice increasingly aggravated. "If you don't mind, we're busy."

"I have your wallet," Kenny called, ignoring Stan. From his pocket, he indeed produced a black leather wallet that bared the Broflovski signature. He waggled it over Stan's shoulder, hoping the other would see it.

"What?! My wallet?" Kyle replied from somewhere beyond the doorway.

"You dropped it outside of Laverne's," came the quick reply.

"Wait," Kyle replied, sudden realization hitting his guts. Was it the same kid from the diner? "I did?"

"Thanks," Stan said, snatching it from the tiny blonde's hand. He immediately moved to shove the door shut. "Have a good one, dude."

"H-hey!" Kenny cried out. He stuck his foot into the crack between the door, yelping when the large wooden plank slammed it against the frame. "Fuck!"

"What are you doing?!" Stan demanded before pulling the door back. Kenny gripped it and pushed.

"So a guy returns your boyfriend's wallet and all I get is a thanks and a broken foot?" Kenny groaned, his voice shaking. Stan was dismayed. He opened the door slightly, rewarded with the young blonde trying to claw his way inside.

"Don't put your foot in the door!" Stan demanded. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Kyle had turned on the kitchen light, illuminating the trail of clothing leading to their bedroom door. "And how do you know he's my boyfriend?" he asked, offended.

"Two naked guys in an apartment together?" The boy grinned lasciviously. "Only thing that explains that is homos."

"Aren't you a little young to be talking like that?" Kyle asked from beyond the doorway. Stan handed him the wallet. He flipped it open and checked for stolen cash or cards. Everything was intact. He swore to himself for not even having noticed the damn thing going missing!

"A few minutes with you and I could talk dirtier," Kenny replied in a throaty oscillating twang. His grin was a corrupt blot on an otherwise flawless face.

"W-what?" Kyle stammered, his cheeks turning a dim red.

"Woah, what the hell kid?" Stan glowered, almost animalistic. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It **could** mean a blonde boy sandwich, if you want," Kenny replied boldly. With that he took another step into the apartment, catching another glimpse of the redhead huddled up just inside the door.

"Get out of here kid! It's late and your parents are probably pissed," Stan cut him off, easily pushing him out with one hand.

"Hey come on! It's cold out here!" Kenny snapped, his previous elegance melting like the snow on his cheek. "It's far to my house! At least let me stay the night!"

"Look, we don't hang out with weird little kids," Stan replied insensitively.

"At least give me a better c-coat!" The boy pursed his lips together in a pout, rubbing his arms. His cheeks were visibly red and his nose was wet. Stan took a long moment to stare at the kid, considering his plight. He sighed and backed into the doorway, muttering something to his boyfriend. After a few moments of hushed bickering, Stan's face reappeared.

"Fine, let me go find you a sweater or something," Stan finally said acrimoniously. He was about to shut the door when Kenny forced a tiny hand through again, stirring the man's frustration one more time. "Dude!"

"Can't I come inside while you look for one?! It's cold!" the boy whined. Stan sighed and opened the door, padding back inside quickly. Kenny stepped into the doorway, watching him saunter off down the hallway with Kyle one step ahead.

"Stay right fucking there and don't touch anything," Stan demanded before dodging into the small guest room directly across from the kitchen.

"Man," Kenny said bitterly, cupping his hands together and blowing on them for warmth. His eyes darted around dimly lit living room. The only light was from the kitchen. "I return someone's wallet, offer them a good time, and they act like total fags."

"Pot, kettle," Stan called from the other room. Kenny grinned to himself at the comment and how naturally it rolled off the man's tongue. Something stirred in him. He had to make this work.

"Pot huh? If a little weed is all you want to get your robe off all the way," Kenny replied, searching out the edge of the couch with a wandering hand. "Just give me an hour and I can be back with some."

"I'll keep it in mind," came Stan's sardonic remark. The blonde smirked to himself and decided he liked the raven enough. He finally found the sofa. Fishing around in his pocket, he produced his flip phone. Letting it drop to the floor with a quiet thud he pushed it just barely underneath the furniture. Satisfied, he leaned against the arm, listening while the man rummaged around in the other room.

The living room ceiling lights suddenly exploded in a plume of rays, making his eyes hurt. Kenny squinted through the light to find a slightly less tall man with curly red hair. He was sadly disappointed to see that the man had found his bath robe after all. Kyle's arms were crossed and he was holding a thick gray sweater.

"You're not naked anymore," Kenny commented sadly. He let a small grin tease the corner of his mouth anyway, quirking his brow slyly. Kyle also quirked a brow, albeit incredulously.

"No. Thanks for finding the wallet," Kyle started. There was no true hint of appreciation to his tone, though. "I didn't even notice it was gone. It's almost like it disappeared by magic." There was a trace of accusation to his last sentence. The redhead's eyebrows creased. Kenny didn't seem to care.

"I can show you other magical stuff," Kenny chirped. "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I don't." Kyle replied blankly before tossing the sweater at him. Kenny nearly dropped it, his lips slipping into a slight frown. "Have a good night, Kenny. Good luck saving other peoples' wallets from the wild."

"Haha," Kenny laughed softly, slipping the sweater over his head and pulling it down. "I've found all the wallets I'm gonna find."

"Sure," came the quick reply. And with that, Kenny reached for the door on his own volition and left. He knew he'd be back.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a repeat performance. The knocking at the front door jarred them both from sleep. Stan poked his head up and the sheet slid off his shoulders. Kyle buried his face in the pillow and nudged his boyfriend's hip to get up. The raven grumbled and laid back down.

"Go see who it is," Kyle demanded through a raspy sleep voice. His eyes fluttered shut and he sleep was already washing back over him.

"Dude, I've gotta work in a few hours," Stan replied, rubbing his eyes. He pulled the covers up over his head. "You go see."

"It's laaate," Kyle whined. He fidgeted, rolling awkwardly off the side of the bed. Planting his feet on the immaculate blue carpet, he stood up on shaky legs. He slowly moved through the darkness to the light switch, flipping it on. He glanced around the room to spot his bath robe hanging by the closet door on the small oak dresser. The knocking grew more persistent while he wrapped himself in the soft fabric, hiding away his nakedness.

Another light flipped on in the hallway as he trudged toward the front door. On his way past the kitchen the microwave clock taunted him with a digital decree of 1:30AM. Whoever it was, it had better be fucking important. Kyle needed his beauty sleep. His hair was a tousled mess and his curls hanged unkempt in every direction. The knocking ceased when the deadbolt slid out of its sheath and the door creaked open. The door still bound by the chain lock, Kyle peered through the small crack. He glanced around looking for the source of the disturbance. The redhead let out an annoyed groan.

"Man, I don't have time for this shit," Kyle greeted, glowering down at the straw haired boy.

"Baby, you're gonna wanna make time for me," Kenny chirped. His voice was slightly nasal, but smooth. But the childish vocal vibrations were enough to make Kyle bite his lip in annoyance.

"Why are you harassing us?" Kyle demanded in a low and unimpressed tone.

"I'm just glad to see you," the boy replied. His mischievous eyes washed over Kyle, making the redhead acutely aware of the nakedness just under his robe.

"Lines like that didn't work on me in college," Kyle lied. "They won't work now."

"Then let's stop talking and do something else," Kenny replied, an unintentional giggle escaping his breath.

"What do you want?" Kyle asked, anticipating the answer. Kenny's reply didn't surprise him.

"Last week, I dropped my phone somewhere. I've been looking everywhere," the boy lied. Kyle could read it in his face. It wasn't just the context of having his wallet stolen right out of his pocket then magically returned, but the look in the boy's deep blue eyes. They had ulterior motives, as if on a mission. It was strange, really, because Kyle usually needed to get to know a person before he could read them. It might have been a skill he simply picked up in law school. But somehow, this kid was practically screaming his dishonesty.

"Yeah it's here," the redhead said bitterly. He moved from the door, trusting the chain latch. He waddled tiredly to the kitchen table. He grabbed the tiny dented phone, noticing the battery had finally died. Kyle moved back to the door, shoving the phone through the crack.

"You didn't go through my pictures, did you?" The question was theatrical in its acquisitiveness. Kyle wasn't baited though. He was half asleep and ready to collapse where he stood. The carpet might not offer the best comfort, but it might be suitable if he didn't make it back to the bedroom.

"Sorry, no." Kyle stated simply, slowly pushing the door shut. "Nice knowing you, Kenny." With that, he shut the door with a deft click, redoing the deadbolt. He hadn't gotten two steps from the door before another knock jarred his senses back from the sleep they threatened to dwindle into. Growling, he undid the bolt and looked out again. "What?!" he spat impatiently.

"You remembered my name," Kenny said, his voice small. He wasn't grinning this time, but there was warmth in his expression. It took Kyle aback. What was with that kid's eyes? Furthermore, the redheaded man couldn't understand why he didn't just slam the door in his face anyway. Something stirred in his stomach when his brain refused to stop studying the fair but dirty features of Kenny's face. He was an attractive boy, with pointed cheekbones trailing down to form a dimpled pair of lips down to a narrow but strong jaw.

"...You need to go," Kyle finally said after an awkward pause. He forced a yawn to rob the moment of its awkwardness.

"I can't," Kenny replied hurriedly.

"You can," the redhead insisted, his brow furrowing.

"I told my parents I'm at a friend's house," the boy reasoned. He gave another absorbing smile to which Kyle felt his own cheeks flush. "So I can't go home."

"Why is that my problem?" Kyle stammered, glancing back at the clock on the TV stand. He rubbed his eye, lamenting that five minutes had already passed, robbing him of sleep.

"I'll have to sleep in the streets," Kenny pouted. His pale face twisted into a frown, his lower lip puffing subtly. The redhead itched at his nose, pretending not to care. He knew it was manipulation, but it was probably also true. It suddenly occurred to Kyle that the boy was wearing the thick gray sweater they'd given him a week before. It would keep him warm, but probably not very.

"And I suppose there's nowhere else you can go," Kyle stated flatly. The boy nodded, to which he gave a long drawn out sigh. He rubbed his temples before leering down at the kid. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I swear to fucking god if I find shit stolen in the morning I'll find you and kick your ass! I don't care if you're like twelve, I'll do it!"

"Sounds like fun," Kenny replied with a wink. The comment hit Kyle in the strangest way, and he refused to acknowledge the dangerous feeling creeping through his belly. He pushed it aside to favor annoyance at being played so easily. He unlatched the chain and opened the door, motioning inside.

"Stan's gonna be pissed. Stay here," Kyle told him sternly.

"Do I get the super nice second bedroom to sleep in?" the dirty blonde asked.

"It's an office. You're sleeping on the couch," Kyle said matter-of-factly. Kenny kicked his boots off at the door before shutting off the cold draft that had lowered the apartment's temperature. Trotting down the hallway past the second bedroom, Kyle walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "That kid is back."

"Ugh," Stan murmured from the bed, having suddenly been jarred back to reality. He had been snoring until the closing door woke him. "What kid?"

"The one from last week," the redhead said pointedly, walking to the bed and dragging the comforter off the top.

"W-what? I neeeed that!" Stan whined, trying to wrench the comforter free from his boyfriend's grip.

"I'll keep you warm," the redhead offered. He brought the blanket up to his chest, sighing heavily.

"I'm using the bathroom," came the muffled voice from the hallway. Stan poked his head up, his eyes narrow slits.

"What was that?" he whispered as if someone had broken in. The redhead sighed and kicked open the door.

"Kenny," the redhead said, suppressing a yawn.

"Who?" came Stan's voice. But Kyle was already outside, waiting patiently by the bathroom door. He leaned tiredly against the door frame, the warm bundled blanket in his arms lulling him into a state of deep desire for sleep. He glanced into the kitchen and caught another digital insult in the form of 1:45AM. It would be a long time before he woke up today.

"I'll drive you home in the morning," Kyle muttered softly in the doorway, deciding the blonde was taking entirely too long.

"Okay," Kenny's voice sounded through the crack. The toilet flushed followed by the sound of rushing sink water.

"If you want something to eat, there's crap in the fridge. I don't care what you take," the redhead said. A yawn finally racked his body, and he couldn't deny his tired legs a good long stretch. Kyle threw his arms over his head lazily, his bones and muscles tensing. His eyes watered and clouded his vision when the bathroom door finally opened. He buried his face in the blanket to regain his vision when he finished stretching. "I better not find any weird stains on this comforter tomorrow."

"Wanna help me make some weird stains?" Kenny said in a hushed voice. The redhead had grown more impatient and was ready to scold him. But when he looked up from the blanket, he found the boy was completely nude.

Kenny was skinnier than Kyle thought, and couldn't have weighed more than a sack of potatoes. The boy's body was bruised and scraped in some places, and there wasn't a single hair to be found anywhere. Especially not **there**, where Kyle's eyes couldn't help but settle, between his legs. It suddenly occurred to Kyle how young the blonde was.

"What's wrong?" Kenny asked, a smirk creasing his lips. He placed his hands on his hips, swaying them slightly, making no motion to cover himself.

"W-what-" Kyle stammered. His baggy eyes were as wide as could be and searching absent mindedly the boy's lithe form. Kenny's hips were skinny, and so was every other part of him. His threadlike legs spread subtly. Something even scarier stirred in Kyle's stomach now, spreading downward. He felt his groin stir, a terrifying sensation in that moment. It brought him to action. "Where the fuck are your clothes?!" came Kyle's angry whisper.

"In the living room?" Kenny said with a shrug. He leaned against the door frame, his fingers trailing lightly down his naked thigh, as if to direct the redhead's attention. Kyle's face flushed a deep crimson, and readied an angry tirade.

"WOAH!" Stan suddenly yelped from behind them. "Naked boy in my apartment! Kyle what the fuck is going on?!"

"I don't know!" Kyle said in a hushed tone. He forced his eyes to break from the tantalizing body swaying in the doorway. He shoved the comforter into Kenny's arms, pulling the corners up over his shoulders. "Put some clothes on, dude!"

"Why? I always sleep naked," Kenny said. It was hard to tell if he even understood why they were even upset. He was so non-chalant about his nakedness that it seemed he'd not even known what clothes were. Defiantly, he allowed the blanket to slip to the floor when Kyle thought he'd secured it around the boy's neck.

"It's that kid who took your wallet!" Stan grumbled, cupping his eyes with one hand. He would have put his head in sand if there were any. "Kyle, tell me what the fuck is going on."

"No fucks are going on," Kenny interrupted. He turned in the door frame, pressing his chest against the wooden slab running up from the floor where the door would latch in place. "Let's change that."

"Let's not," Kyle quipped. But his curiosity burned at his stomach. He couldn't help but notice the smooth bare hip which gave shape to a firm and astonishingly soft flush apple shape that was Kenny's ass. It protruded from pointy hip bones and slowly spread rail like legs no bigger than Kyle's arm. Another terrifying lurch jolted his groin. "Go to the living room and take the fucking blanket!" he demanded in a stammer. The boy obliged, casting a look of doubt toward the pair he left in the hallway. Stan pulled his boyfriend's smaller form into the office bedroom, glancing down to make sure he didn't jam his hip on the desk. Kyle was thankful to see the raven had at least donned a pair of boxer briefs in his retreat from their man-cave.

"Kyle-"

"He didn't have anywhere else to go," Kyle cut him off before he had the chance to fight. The raven's breath caught in his throat and he slid his ass onto the edge of the desk tiredly.

"Why is that our problem?!"

"He made it our problem," Kyle replied. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, casting his eyes to the floor. His face was still flushed and he silently demanded that his body cease sending excited jolts through his muscles.

"I don't care," Stan hissed, slamming his fist onto the desk. A cup of pens and pencils rattled, threatening to tumble before settling and occupying a new place on the wood top. "It's weird enough that there's some strange kid in our house, but he's running around without any clothes on?! People are going to think we're pedophiles!"

"I didn't tell him to run around without any clothes," Kyle said. He paused to press fingers to his forehead. He was tired, no doubt. But the sight of that straw haired blonde's lips suddenly flashed in his mind's eye. "Besides, who's gonna know?"

"What if he tells someone?" Stan said simply, flashing a hesitant look to his boyfriend. A long silence passed between the two. Neither knew what move to make. It was certainly a good point. The child had stolen from them and used dubious means just to get inside the apartment. Who knows what purpose he had here. Kyle suddenly wondered if they weren't the subject of a sting. He knew the law well enough to drop any fear of that possibility, but stranger stories had been told.

"I'm not gonna say anything," Kenny called lightly from the living room. His voice carried as far as the bathroom, the sounds ringing off the surface of the tub. Stan stood and the chair squeaked a protest louder than the blonde's voice. He stalked past his boyfriend and made his way into the hallway, Kyle following after him curiously.

"Stan-" Kyle said after him, worried what he might do. The raven simply stopped at the mouth of the hallway, staring down at the floor where Kenny was seated. The blonde was spread-legged and seemed enticed by the view.

"Why are you doing this?" Stan demanded, his arms crossed.

"...Why are you looking at me?" Kenny asked, a cocky easiness to his voice. His eyes freely washed over the raven man's body, marveling at the collection of thick hair below his naval. Stan blushed in response, not expecting such a lewd response.

"I-I wasn't looking, I just-"

"You're looking now!" Kenny contradicted him. The raven man's eyes averted quickly, abashed. He turned to find the equally bashful cheeks of his longtime lover.

"H-have we met this kid before?" Stan asked, his voice high with confusion. Kyle shook his head. "How old are you?" Stan demanded, closing his eyes.

"Old enough to know what I want," said Kenny, not skipping a beat. He settled onto his hands, bending his knees apart shamelessly. There was no pretense to cover his eagerness.

"Oh? And what's that?" Stan replied, uninterested truth be told. The blonde raised a hand, pointing past him.

"Him," Kenny replied. He moved his arm, extending the same pointer in Stan's direction. "You."

"W-what..." Stan was at a loss for words, his face a mire of confounded tension. His jaw gaped open and shut, searching for any vocabulary that would end this conversation. The redhead placed a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and leaned over him. To everyone's shock, Kyle's teeth bit down lightly on Stan's ear and his hands roved up the man's chest.

"We don't share," Kyle said. He looked Kenny right in the eyes, challenging. But what he found in response was not the predicted arrogance, but of dejection. The blonde wore a less contentious look, and he shifted suddenly as if finally realizing he were naked. He cast his eyes downward and pulled his knees to his chest slowly. A hollow feeling in his chest granted him a silent moment of self-reproach. But it was suddenly halted when Stan grabbed his hand in triumph, twirling him around and pushing him toward the bedroom door.

"That's that. Go to sleep, I guess. Or not," Stan growled on his way down the hallway, flipping light switches off as he went. "I don't care." Kyle hustled ahead of him without the persuasion, his brain suddenly craving the deepest sleep of the year. When the lights were out and they were curled up against one another under the barely ample covers, Kyle could have sworn he heard an anguished cry from the door. He soon fell into sleep.

-.-

The car ride was dull and quiet. It turned out that Kenny lived further away than Kyle had realized. The small sedan passed under tree lined back roads, small patches of fragmented light washing over them in a hurry. It was a side of town he wasn't entirely familiar with, but the main arteries were nearby. His GPS would assure his finding home. Kyle glanced at a small wooden shack as it passed by, increasingly aware of the financial state of the neighborhood he was in.

"So where do you go to school?" Kyle finally broke the silence. He tugged at his collar which was tight around his thin neck. He brushed his sweater callously and glanced over to the passenger seat. The blonde was smiling at him through tired eyes. None of them had gotten enough sleep, that much was evident. But for some reason it didn't suck any of the exuberance from Kenny's face.

"You should come with me and find out," Kenny said casually. His hand idly skirted its way across the middle of the mantle, edging ever so slowly toward the man's leg. "Maybe I could show you the janitor's closet."

"Any friends?" Kyle asked, ignoring the comment.

"Plenty," the blonde said with a smile. "I've got one with me right now."

"Well I'm glad you consider me your friend, Kenny," Kyle said in his characteristic condescension. "I like you as a friend too." The comment seemed a slap in the face to the boy and he grimaced.

"Being friends with me has benefits," Kenny replied quickly, keeping his composure.

"I'm sure it does," Kyle said, resisting a smile. He bit his tongue for daring to even hint at amusement. This situation was a danger and he could find himself in a world of shit. It's not that he wasn't being careful, but something about the kid was enticing. A flirty quip here and a bodily gesture there seemed to always catch him by surprise, reeling him in. But to what? Kyle didn't want to know. And he wasn't ready to find out. It wasn't wise to even start entertaining friendliness to the boy outside of basic cordiality. It was his mission to get this kid home and out of his life for good. If he was lucky. "Any hobbies?"

"I like reading," Kenny shrugged, his eyes shifting out the window. He seemed suddenly bored by the conversation.

"Oh yeah? Me too. What do you read?"

"Iunno. Books about Peru."

"Peru?" Kyle asked, dumbfounded. "Interesting." he admitted with honesty.

"Yeah," Kenny replied, shifting in his seat. "I like reading about pan flutes and stuff."

"Sounds like you're a smart guy," Kyle admitted. He spun the wheel and brought the car around a large bend in the road, spotting a farm nearby. "You must get good grades."

"Meh, not really," Kenny shrugged, bored. His feet clicked together impatiently, moving around the plastic matt that covered the carpet on the floor of the car. The noise was annoying to Kyle, but the temporariness of the situation made him care little.

"That's no good, dude," Kyle replied. "If you get good grades you can go off and be a Peruvian historian," he said somewhat condescendingly. It didn't go unnoted.

"Yeah, and spend the rest of my life working at a Wall-mart," the blonde laughed.

"You don't know that," Kyle responded in a tone that reminded him eerily of his mother.

"Yeah I do. So do you," Kenny pointed out. "What do you do?"

"I'm getting ready to finish up law school," Kyle replied with a curt nod. He glanced over to see the blonde smirking. The smile was different, a bitter mocking.

"So you'll be making the big cash while I'm playing a pan flute and hating my life working in some graveyard shift shit hole."

"Well," Kyle sighed, glancing over uneasily. "Maybe not. But you're apparently sharp enough to figure that out. Maybe you'll avoid that and actually go somewhere," he replied. He wasn't sure if he was sincere, or if he should care. It was high and time he just get this little bastard home.

"Doubt it," Kenny said with a shrug. "No one in my family did."

"No?" he asked, bringing the sedan around another bend. "What are they like?"

"I don't wanna talk about them," Kenny replied bitterly. His arms were crossed, and he seemed to tense up at the mention. The car rolled in front of a stop light and jerked him forward a little. The redhead glanced down at the boy who was staring out the window with his cheek pressed against the pane. There was something in that look that spelled out so much unease, but not enough solid information.

"...They give you a hard time?" Kyle asked. The blonde's head swiveled quickly in annoyance and he looked ready to dismiss the question entirely. But their eyes locked and Kenny was at a loss. He seemed to struggle to find the words, lost in the concerned emeralds fixed in the redhead's fair face. The boy's cheeks turned a dull crimson.

"...Something like that," Kenny finally said after a few minutes. He wanted to look away, but attempting to break from that face, so full of trepidation, was like snapping a brick with two hands.

"It's not forever, you know," Kyle offered in a hushed breath.

"...Who says?" Kenny asked, betraying his self-imposed secrecy more than he'd cared to.

"Someone who knows," Kyle replied. A horn from behind broke his concentration, and he was forced to roll the car forward just before the light turned yellow. The car broke down a small roadway lined with cheap looking houses and apartment buildings.

"You don't know," Kenny grumbled, not expecting the man to hear.

"Not everything," Kyle admitted. The car slowed suddenly past a reduced speed limit sign, and he began to search the side for their destination. "Okay, you said the parking lot was on the right?"

"It's right there," Kenny said, pointing. The car slowed, rolling over gravel as it turned into a small mostly empty parking lot next to a baseball field. Kyle brought his sedan into a space next to the player's booth before throwing the lever into P. He braced his arm against the back of the passenger seat, smiling.

"Alright dude. You can make it home from here, right?" Kyle asked, his shoulders tensing in exhausted satisfaction.

"Can I see you again?" Kenny asked, his blue orbs locked on the redhead's.

"We'll see each other again someday," Kyle said wistfully. But the boy was unconvinced. His eyes were piercing, stern. His face was an unmoving wall made of soft stone.

"Don't say stupid bullshit. I wanna know if I can come see you again, **soon**," Kenny replied, adding emphasis on the last part. The redhead fidgeted uneasily, unsure why his immediate response wasn't an exasperated 'no'. It was Kenny's lips that stole Kyle's attention. They were a deep full red.

"W-why?"

"I like you," Kenny replied, his voice suddenly cracking. "You're sexy and your boyfriend's hot."

"Dude," Kyle sighed, shifting back into the driver's seat uncomfortably. "Is this seriously all you think about?"

"No!" Kenny said defensively. "But I like it! Do you know how much of a dream come true it'd be to let a guy like you fuck me?"

"I'm not going to fuck you," Kyle said in exasperation. The blonde was giving him an expectant look, leaning toward him across the cup holders.

"What about Stan?" he replied eagerly, desperately.

"Not Stan! Look, no one here wants to fuck you! Holy shit!" Kyle replied, his patience waning. He was more panicked than angry. "You shouldn't be going after guys this much older than you anyway!"

"So what? I do anyway," Kenny's voice was low on this response. A cold knife dragged across Kyle's gut and he cast a weary glance.

"Do you?" Kyle asked. He gauged Kenny's reaction, noting the wry smirk creeping across his lips. "You've had sex with older guys before?"

"Not yet," the boy admitted. "But I'm working on it."

"Is that why you forced your way into my apartment?" Kyle asked in a disdained hollow voice. Kenny nodded, sending a shiver down his back. The thought of this boy actively searching for sex with older men gave him the temptation to find his parents and warn them. Maybe he would even find the neighborhood watch and warn them. To find some way of protecting this boy from the very real danger he might be putting himself in. "Y-you're gonna get yourself killed!"

"Oh god, here we go," Kenny groaned, leaning back to his own chair. He grumbled and reached for the door handle, finding the child lock still engaged. He cursed and fumbled with it, trying to pry it open.

"Do you know the kinds of creepy fucking weirdos out there?! They'd have a field day kidnapping a kid like you!" Kyle crooned, his hands balling into fists.

"As long as they have sex with me, I don't care," Kenny replied. He glanced over his shoulder at the man in annoyance. "I've already heard this. My friend Filmore is always bitching at me. He can't stop me, and neither will you." The boy was probably telling the truth, Kyle realized. There was a callous awareness in Kenny's face, one that spoke everything needed to be said. It was senseless to talk down to him, Kyle knew that now.

"Remember when I said I know?" Kyle asked, his voice calm now.

"You don't know," Kenny replied, aggravated. He turned to the side, reaching for the door handle.

"I know you're frustrated. But the waiting isn't too long. You'll get out, Kenny," the redhead said. He reached out to grab the boy's arm. Kenny froze in place and turned toward him again. Kyle squeezed his tinier hand softly as he their fingers intertwined. He brought them up to his soft lips and kissed them lightly, sending a shiver through the blonde's body. "Just wait awhile, okay? You'll get your chance. Eventually you'll find so many guys you won't know where to start. Weirdo-free."

"I don't wanna wait," Kenny said in an ice cold yet distraught tone. His eyes shifted to their hands, refusing to look him in the eyes. "Life is boring and short."

"Take it from someone with experience," Kyle said, his voice sullen now. He shifted his weight down and forced the blonde to look him in the face. "You don't wanna do this to yourself."

"W-what's that mean?"

"Sleep with guys your own age," Kyle laughed softly. With that, he leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Kenny's full pink cheek. When he pulled back, the straw haired blonde was blushing deep. It was then that Kyle decided he liked Kenny. He reached out and ruffled his dirty unkempt hair.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: What a long lapse in updates! The story is finished, save for one chapter at the end. The problem is finding the time to edit and upload. This chapter's short but I'll have the other one up tonight. :)

"I saw that kid again today," said Stan. He lifted the coffee mug to his warm lips, fixated on an issue of Gamer Mag. Uninterested in the cheap Halo knockoff smearing the front page, he looked to his boyfriend shaking a steaming pan of beef in the kitchen.

"Kenny?" Kyle asked. He stirred the browning meat with a spatula before lifting the pan, draining the grease into a separate one. Stan was stunned.

"Yeah, that's his name," the raven recalled. He shifted in his seat and tugged at his black Skinny Puppy shirt, airing his chest off. It was hot whenever Kyle cooked. He had two or three different dishes going at any one time. The oven, the stove, a microwave. "I saw him walking along the train tracks by the river."

"Did he see you?" the redhead asked.

"Nah. He was with some other kid. I think they were fighting," Stan replied with a shrug. He flipped through the magazine disinterestedly.

"Hm," Kyle replied, his mind wandering as he washed his hands to prepare a dish of cabbage. "I hope not. He seems like an unhappy kid."

"Yeah you told me," Stan admitted. "I don't get it though. He seemed plenty happy enough to me. And a fucking perv to boot!"

"He's not that bad," Kyle admitted. His hands worked deftly to remove the excess leaf stems he didn't want in the dish.

"Not that bad? Dude, this new generation is insane!" Stan scoffed. His boyfriend flashed him a perverse grin that took him aback.

"Come on, Stan. Remember how early we started having sex?" Kyle offered. The raven huffed, too embarrassed to act as casually. He shifted his gaze to the row of picture frames that graced the bar dividing the kitchen from the hallway. He stared directly at a picture of the two of them as twelve year old boys hugging and grinning without care.

"Well, yeah, but... I don't think we were **that** young," the raven replied. A plate of steaming beef was set before him in the center of the small clean table. His mouth watered at the sight. "Looks good."

"It is," Kyle agreed. "Even if we were, I don't think it made us **too **crazy. I think Kenny's a good kid," the redhead bantered before returning to the kitchen to prepare the rest of the meal.

"And you can tell that from like an hour of interaction. That shit was weeks ago," Stan laughed. He picked at the beef on the plate with his fingers, popping a small morsel in his mouth and chewing. "He's probably mixed up with drugs or gangs by now."

"In a town this small?" Kyle laughed incredulously.

"Yeah, you ought to see some of these kids. They want to be in the city so bad they walk around with bandannas and sagging jeans."

"Not Kenny," Kyle stated simply. His thoughts wandered back to the little blonde and of that pink face as he scurried out of the car. Kyle remembered the melancholy wave goodbye they shared while he drove off. He couldn't help but hope to see the boy's form one more time before it disappeared in the distance.

"You're such a girl sometimes," Stan said with a soft smile. "Soft hearted and shit."

"Heh, I hate teenagers," Kyle replied loosely. He opened the oven, receiving a waft of warm air in the face, turning it red. "I don't know."

"What?" The raven was busy scouring an article of a new football game, already losing track of their conversation.

"I can't help but feel like Kenny is kinda... I can't describe it," he muttered. With gloved hands Kyle produced a glass pan of potatoes from the oven and placed it on the stove.

"Use your words."

"Interesting," Kyle finally said. "He's... Interesting." Stan gave him a slightly knowing expression.

"He was definitely interesting," Stan said with a slight laugh.

"I mean," Kyle began, his cheeks slightly red and his brows raised when he returned his boyfriend's gaze. They shared a silent look for a few moments while he tried to wax coherent. "I was really... Comfortable around him. More than I should have been."

"I... think I know what you mean," Stan admitted. He frowned slightly and clenched his hands together on the table, kicking his feet back under the chair.

"So," Kyle chose his words carefully now. "You got the same feeling too?"

"I mean, he pissed me off," Stan replied. "But... It's like the kind of pissed off you get at someone you're... Close to."

"Yeah?" Kyle let the conversation continue while he produced herbs from his spice rack.

"Other than that, I thought he was..."

"He was what?"

"I-Iunno dude, I don't think I wanna say."

"Hot?" Kyle finished, bracing for an awkward reaction. But he received none. He turned to his boyfriend, who was still staring blankly at the page in front of him.

"...Maybe... If he were like, the same person, but, I dunno," Stan's voice lowered now. "Just... A few years older?" Kyle blushed hard and couldn't help but grin at his boyfriend, who returned it guiltily.

.-.

"What did you say you do again?" asked the refined blonde man, eyeing the couple with a shy smile from over top of a wine glass. He had sympathetic green eyes, the kind that one could get lost in. His hair was short and proper, just the way they'd remembered it when they were young.

"Right now I'm in school for law. I may go into paralegal to keep up with bills at some point, but for now I'm riding student loans," the redhead replied with reciprocity. He sipped his wine cup, running his bare toes coyly along the man's ankle. Gary sat lazily in the corner of the large sofa on Stan's right. Kyle was on the far end of the couch with his legs draped across his boyfriend's lap.

"How about you, Stan? Still going for the Heisman?" Gary asked, taking a brief sip from his glass. His hand deftly rested on the inside of the raven's thigh. This prompted Stan to grin and reciprocate the gesture and lay his own fingers across the blonde's lap.

"Nah, I kinda started losing my interest in football back in high school," Stan replied. His hand wandered across the metal tooth hooked to Gary's jeans and he wondered if he might be intruding by undoing it. Instead, he kneaded the pulsing bump forming under the sea of denim against his fingers. "I do a little freelance programming here and there, but I do billing at the hospital right now."

"So I won't get to see you in football gear?" Gary asked, his toned cheeks taut in a smile.

"He's too skinny," Kyle replied with a snicker. His foot travelled more freely now that he could feel Stan's erection poking him in the back of his knee. "He can barely fill it out. Besides," he muttered as his toes pressed inside of Gary's thigh. "A big guy like you would look better in pads."

"Haha, oh man. You guys know I never played in the football league," Gary replied in that modest childlike voice. It was true, however. His shoulders were broader than any man they'd ever been with, almost as if he had been a weightlifter. Everyone in South Park was aware of the naturally fit build of the men in Gary's family. It had been a turn on for both Stan and Kyle back in high school.

"I guess it makes sense, in retrospect," Kyle replied with red cheeks, exchanging smiles with the blonde. The alcohol was finally beginning to melt the ice. Their conversation had been going on for more than three hours. It had been a surprise to both Stan and Kyle to find their old high school friend's profile on OkCupidMe complete with the "Gay" tag under his name.

"How does your family deal with you liking dudes?" asked Stan. "I thought Mormons weren't okay with it."

"They don't know," Gary replied with an innocent expression and looked off to the side. "As far as they know, I'm still on a journey to find that one special girl to settle down with." He squeezed the raven's cock through his black jeans, catching a light yelp in response.

"Doesn't that mean you're," Kyle began, eyeing the swaying current of plum colored liquid in his glass. "I don't know, going to hell?"

"I don't think so," came Gary's unfettered response. "Heavenly father wants us to be happy. Men make me happier than women. I'm sure he understands that."

"And it makes us happy that you're here," Kyle replied. In all truth, Kyle didn't care at all what Heavenly father approved due to his chronic atheism. He slipped forward into his boyfriend's lap, draping his legs across both men now. His toes dangled off the other edge of the couch. The blonde gave a slight squirm when he felt small firm hands grip the back of his neck, drawing him forward. Kyle closed his eyes and pressed his full lips to the man's, all too aware that his boyfriend was watching. The pulsing hardness against his ass confirmed it.

And that was when somebody started banging on the door.

This routine was becoming tiresome. It was a break from the middle of the night dilemmas, but the frantic pounding had never been more unwanted.

"Fucking god dammit!" Kyle cursed, his face breaking from the blonde man's. He scrambled out of the men's laps, aware of the averted gazes and red faces trying to keep composure. The moment had been thoroughly ruined. "Think it'll actually be a neighbor this time?" Kyle asked, knowing the answer. The living room was dimly lit by lamplight from two corners. The sun had only gone down an hour previous.

"No," Stan said plainly. He fidgeted anxiously, his mind falling on the looming bedtime he needed to adhere to. It had taken so much effort to find a third partner. It was unfortunate that work in the morning took priority over it and everything else. Thankfully the clock on the end table read 7:49PM, so there was still time. "Can you tell whoever it is to fuck off?"

"Could you?," Kyle muttered when neither of the other two made a move to stand. His face was a deep red, contrasted with the pale skin around the edges of his cheeks. He shifted coyly and covered his crotch.

"I'm wearing tight pants," Stan groaned. He didn't wait for a response before hoisting himself off the couch.

"Sorry," the redhead replied with another blush.

"It's cool," Stan replied before trekking across the small expanse to the door.

"Gary, do you want some more wine?" Kyle asked, extending a hand for the glass. The blonde nodded, shifting anxiously and handing the redhead his glass.

"Get me some too," Stan told his boyfriend. He watched Kyle disappear into the kitchen before moving again. The television hadn't been turned off and was playing terrible reality television. He threw open the deadbolt with a loud click. Undoing the chain lock, he opened the door wide. "It better not be that kid," Stan blurted when the doorway was occupied by a short blonde figure. But his throat tightened at what he saw.

"C-c-can I c-come in?" Kenny stammered. There were cuts lining his jaw and neck, and his eye was purple and red. The orange hoodie he wore was ripped in places it hadn't been the last time Stan had seen it. The boy looked dizzy, his good eye red from crying.

"What the fuck," Stan cursed, staring helplessly at the fragile looking boy. The soft padding of feet on carpet marked Kyle's approach, followed by an anguished cry.

"Kenny!" Kyle cried, immediately noticing the large black welt on his eye.

Kenny watched them both somewhat reproachfully, noticing the man in the blue jacket on their couch. He stammered to find words. But nothing came out save for an uncontrollable sob. With that, the boy burst into tears, leaning against the metal door frame for support. He looked ready to collapse when Kyle rushed forward and grabbed the boy by the shoulders, crouching down to his level, inspecting the wounds close.

"Th-th-they're f-fucking assholes," Kenny finally choked out before bursting again into sobs. The redhead threw his arms around his shoulders without thinking and pulled him close. Kenny clutched Kyle's red shirt, leaving tear stains in the fabric.


	4. Chapter 4

"No cops," Kenny blurted out from his spot on the couch, no longer occupied by their former high school classmate. Ice was wrapped in a small towel pressed against his hurt temple, soothing the throbbing ache. He shifted tiredly against the arm and drew his knees up. Kyle sat with his head propped against his hand at the other end.

"Dude, someone beat the shit out of you!" Stan growled angrily, pacing the living room floor. "What kind of person does this to their own kid?!"

"N-no cops," Kenny responded bitterly, stubbornly. The raven man sighed at him, pinching the bridge of his nose in concentration.

"Fuck that, we're going to the hospital. Tomorrow morning I'm going to the station," Stan said dismissively.

"NO, COPS!" Kenny growled, yelping when the bare ice accidentally touched his skin. He rewrapped the frozen water and pressed it with a groan to his bruise.

"The authorities can keep you safe, Kenny," said Kyle softly. His eyes were deliberate. Every small crease to the skin of the blonde's face, every batting of an eye, every expression of body language gave up crucial information.

"I don't c-care," the blonde sniffed. His head was spinning and his eyes burned. It didn't stop him from giving the man a pleading look. "No cops."

"Why not, Kenny?" Kyle asked, expressionless. "Your parents **did** do this, right?" Kenny let the question linger for a few moments, aware of the emphasis on the word 'did'.

"...W-why would I do this to myself?" Kenny stammered angrily as if betrayed. He curled up with his knees against his chin, challenging Kyle with a stare. It caught Kyle disarmed briefly and he felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't wanted to accuse the kid of anything, but it was important to rule out all other possibilities.

"I never said you did, Kenny," Kyle offered. He sighed and shifted forward, conscious of his body language. He got to his knees next to Kenny, rolling his shoulders forward and dangling his arms in front of his body. A few locks of curly red dangled in front of his eyes and hanged there, framing his near flawless pointed face. Kenny's cheeks etched slight red by the sight. Smiling, Kyle reached out and ran fingers through yellow tangles. "If they hurt you, it's only right to pay them back." His words were carefully selected, hopeful to catch the poor boy's appeal. It didn't work. Blushing, Kenny buried his face in his knees, only his eyes visible behind the skinny knobs.

"You don't pay them back. No cops," he stated simply, his voice muffled. The redhead sighed. He allowed his fingers to linger at the back of Kenny's neck, massaging there. He could feel the tired boy lean into his touch, warmth at his fingertips.

"Okay," Kyle said simply with a nod. "No cops."

"What?!" Stan asked, aghast. He stopped in front of the couch, looming over the two. "We should at least take him to the ER!"

"Doctors will want to know what happened and they'll call the police. He doesn't look too bad," Kyle replied. He glanced up at his boyfriend, a sullen expression on his face. "He can stay here a few days and go home when things are calm."

"A few days?!" Stan repeated, an aggravated tone to his voice. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Kyle, in case you'd forgotten, we have professional lives to worry about. We can't be around to-" Stan stopped himself from using the word 'babysit'. "Keep Kenny company."

"He's not going to steal anything," the redhead replied with a roll of the eyes.

"Then why won't he let us call the cops?!" Stan insisted impatiently.

"It's none of our business," Kyle replied softly. He wouldn't let his boyfriend degrade the rapport he built with the bruised blonde. "It's not like I won't be around the house while you're at work anyway. Don't be so melodramatic."

"I'm not staying that long," replied Kenny. His muffled voice was regretful against his knee. The dirty blonde closed his eyes and pressed his head into Kyle's inviting hand, savoring the moment. "I can go to a friend's house tomorrow."

"Really dude, you can hide out here," Kyle assured him. He trailed his fingers lightly down the boy's neck, lingering over the tight muscles there. They tensed to his touch and he massaged them, watching Kenny shiver slightly from the sensation.

"Stan says I can't," the blonde replied, his voice a slight muffle. Stan sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets before plopping down into the recliner by the door with a loud thud. Chewing on his lip he looked the boy up and down. There was a slight red mark that started at Kenny's jaw that disappeared into his shirt where his shoulder lay partially exposed.

"Despite my better judgment," sighed Stan, defeated. "At the **very** least we can let you stay the night. It's not like I want you to get beat up or sleep in the snow, even if you do drive me nuts."

"I can make it up to you with blowjobs," Kenny replied with a gleam in his eye. To his surprise, the raven couldn't help but grin.

"Sounds nice, but we should have probably have fun in legal ways," the raven remarked with an uncomfortable shift. He nodded toward the television stand where a set of controllers hooked to a video game console laid in a pile. "You like shooters?"

"Yeah," Kenny replied smirking. Despite the pangs in his cheek, he seemed back to somewhat normal.

The realization made Kyle sigh in relief and stroke the boy's shoulder softly. He shifted and sat back against the couch, wrapping an arm around Kenny's shoulder. The boy didn't seem to mind and basked in the warmth. They both watched from the couch while Stan stood to gather a couple of controllers.

Hours passed while Kyle watched his boyfriend take a beating from the surprisingly talented boy. Kenny had explained that he spent several hours a day during the school year with his friends taking turns virtually slapping each other around. One of his friends even had a spot in the top 100 on the same game. He laughed and smiled in a way that brought the young Jew much needed relief. The bruise on Kenny's face was practically the only reminder anything had been wrong. There was still the worry that the injuries might need professional care. But Kyle had studied enough medicine to sate any fear for the moment. All the same, he watched the blonde closely for any signs of trouble.

"Why the fuck didn't that shot kill you?!" Stan demanded in dismay when his screen turned red then black. He slumped into his chair and pressed his foot lightly into Kenny's shoulder. The blonde was splayed on the ground with a controller in hand. He spread his legs and tilted his head backward, his blonde tangles swaying in the air underneath him. An upside down grin teased Stan.

"Cuz you suck at aiming," the blonde retorted.

"I've been playing games like this since before you were a spermling," the raven mocked. Kenny simply grinned in response, spreading his legs tantalizingly.

"I am a spermling," the blonde replied. He licked his lips and stared the man in the eye. "And I'm still kicking your ass."

"Maybe if we weren't stuck on this map I could get some momentum," Stan replied. He ignored the blush creeping up his face and turned back to the television.

"There you go, blame it on the map," Kyle said with a snicker from the couch. He was spread out with two hands gripping the controller. He was never any good at games like these, especially with the screen split in four. The dying cries of a marine filled the room followed by the blonde's screen going black. Kyle flashed the boy a quick grin when he noticed Kenny winking at him. He knew Kenny was giving him free kills. Part of Stan's nerd rage derived from their regular teaming up to put him down, causing him to dip into last place. Kyle had never beaten his boyfriend in score.

"Seriously," Stan said with a determined expression. "It's too easy to sniper spam here."

"I'm using the MP-5," the blonde said easily. Another shot fired and Stan stomped his foot in frustration before leaning forward. His eyes were fixed and he barely blinked. The light hum of the heater kicking on mixed with the sounds of battle. He was well at ease by this point, a far cry from the tensions that marred the previous hours. "So who was that guy that was here?"

"An old friend," Kyle replied half-honestly.

"Yeah, right," Kenny said with a knowing grin. The redhead smirked. When the younger blonde was beckoned in the door those hours ago, Gary had been quick to leave. His face had been red with anxiety and he muttered something about remembering an earlier plan. His hands had been hovering over the front of his jeans inconspicuously on his way out. "So how come your old friend left the moment I got here?"

"Probably because he'd hoped to get laid tonight and realized that wasn't happening," Kyle replied honestly. Stan shot his boyfriend a horrified expression. "What?" the redhead laughed.

"Hrm," Stan grunted. The man ran a hand through his soft black bangs, scratching his forehead. "Guess it can't hurt for him to know that he's fucked up our sex life twice now."

"Sorry," Kenny replied. Blushing, he rolled over onto his side, crawling onto his hands and knees. The controller laid next to him neglected. "I could always be his replacement."

"You sure?" Stan asked sarcastically. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and cocking his brow. "Something tells me you probably wouldn't be as good as the other guy."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've squeezed a load out of another guy," Kenny replied coolly. His eyes were narrow half-lidded slits and the look on his face was lewd.

"Yeah?" Kyle asked, lulling his head to the side to look at the boy. "What kind of guy, Kenny?" he asked suddenly, feeling something tighten in his gut.

"Oh, uh, just this guy from my school," Kenny replied, noticing the man's curious tone. He licked his lips and protruded his hips before arching his back inward. "He's not very fun though. He's not a hotty with experience like you." Kyle flustered slightly, but he continued questioning anyway.

"Have you ever actually had an older guy? They're not always any good." Kyle asked with a forced grin.

"Not yet," Kenny replied quickly. "Only one way to find out."

"So you've **never** had sex with an older man?" Kyle asked, lingering on the last word. The blonde studied him strangely for a moment as if not understanding. The question was redundant.

"I, just said that," he replied with minor annoyance. It quickly morphed into lurid grin. The redhead felt his chest loosen, reading the truth of the matter in the blonde's prying eyes. He could quickly rule out sexual abuse from, dare he say, the kid's father. After all, Kenny could admit to having been molested by an older guy but never mentioned exactly who it was. He dipped back easily into his corner seat, looking at the screen.

"Heh," Stan snickered. "You really shouldn't be having sex at your age," he said with a confounded sigh. The blonde rolled his eyes and turned back over, picking up his controller.

"You sound like my sister," the blonde said with a shrug. He grew cocky in game, literally running circles around Stan before killing him. Stan pretended to let it infuriate him, but he was too perplexed by the bawdy comments still running through his mind.

"You have a sister?" Kyle asked, jumping in. His thumbs danced idly on the controller, barely establishing himself in game now. He ran in callous circles in a far corner of the map upon spawning, more interested in Kenny. The mark on the boy's slim neck and shoulder drew his gaze.

"Yeah, and a brother," the blonde replied. Stan cried in anguish when the blonde killed him with a melee attack.

"Cheap!" Stan growled.

"How old are they?" the redhead continued to pry.

"My brother's a few years older. My sister's four years younger than me," the blonde explained. "Hey Stan, I'm up here," Kenny warned before jumping down and slapping Stan's marine in the face. The raven lamented loudly.

"I have a younger brother," Kyle replied. A sudden urge twisted in the pit of his stomach and he had to follow his intuition. His character accidentally fell off a cliff in his fruitless running. The blonde seemed mostly disinterested in conversation, his shoulders hunched forward in concentration.

"What's he like?" came the blonde's mostly distracted reply.

"A crazy genius, already finished getting a master's degree in engineering. Used to be my parents were pretty hard on him when we were kids. They used to yell at him a bunch when he'd ever get bad grades," the redhead said wistfully. "It got really bad sometimes and they'd make him cry." He studied Kenny's movements, noticing a slight shift in the boy's hips, as if trying to make himself comfortable. "...So I'd wind up sticking up for him every time they'd yell at him."

"...Oh," Kenny said after a long pause. The light clicking of buttons and the sounds of gunshot washed over them while Kyle studied him. A grave frown cut lines into smooth pale cheeks, making Kenny look a few years older than he was, save for the skinny frame. He hadn't moved to say a word, and he kept fidgeting, his hips sliding across the floor slowly and uneasily.

"It sucked seeing him getting all of their anger sometimes. So I'd make them yell at me instead," the redhead continued. He bit down on his lip. "I didn't really like getting screamed at when I hadn't done anything wrong. But it was better knowing he was okay... Know what I mean, Kenny?" He said the last sentence slowly and deliberately. The blonde's eyes cast to the floor where he lowered his controller. The silence lingered and his breathing became labored. The tears falling from his cheeks were unmistakable.

"...Yeah," the blonde replied quietly. On screen, the game was still going on. Gunshots from other players on the server sounded off in distant patches on the map. Every once in awhile, someone's idling character would fall dead with a cry of desperation. But never was it so desperate as the boy sitting in the living room floor. "I do." The redhead shifted slowly, rolling his legs off the couch and setting his feet on the warm carpet.

"Did they try to hurt her, Kenny?" Kyle asked softly. His fingers outstretched carefully before resting lightly on the blonde. Kenny's shoulder twitched at the sudden touch and his chest began to expand faster.

"...Yeah." His breath was ragged and tears stung his eyes. Kenny brought the backs of his fists up to his eyes before he crooked his neck upward and looked into Kyle's face with a sad smile. It was astonishing how quick he regained composure. "My dad never got the chance, though."

"Because of you," Stan suggested.

"Mm-hm," the boy nodded to him.

"Must have been scary," Stan replied awkwardly, looking to his boyfriend unsurely.

"Nothing scares me," the blonde said. He lulled his head to the side and offered the man a grin. His eyes were red with puffy sacs underneath. It looked as if he hadn't slept in days. A cramp in Kyle's stomach suggested to him it might be true. "A guy who only beats up someone smaller than him, like a little girl, isn't actually scary. He's just pathetic."

"Where's your sister now, Kenny?" Kyle asked quickly.

"Safe," he said simply. The redhead sighed and nodded, stroking the boy's neck. Closing his eyes, Kenny seemed to purr, his body radiating heat. Observing the same bruise Stan had been eyeing, Kyle traced a pair of fingers down Kenny's jaw.

"Kenny, are there any other bruises?" the redhead asked, muttering.. The blonde nodded and cast his eyes downward.

"A few," he replied callously. It wouldn't do to simply go to the cops against the blonde's wishes, but Kyle figured he needed a little bit of evidence in case he really did wind up needing to notify the authorities.

"How bad are they?" Kyle asked.

"Not terrible..."

"I know you don't want to go to the police," Kyle began. The blonde grimaced and moved to pull away from his hand. "But would you at least let me get some pictures just in case?"

"Does it matter?" Kenny growled. He hunched over the controller and eyed the ground in annoyance. "If they take my little sister away-"

"I just want to give you the option, Kenny," Kyle replied. He sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. He was met with a flinch. "Just in case you ever change your mind. I can help you."

"Lawyer boy over there," Stan confirmed. "Come on dude."

" I thought I drove you guys crazy," Kenny asked somewhat incredulously.

"We let you in our home without question, didn't we?" Kyle reminded him. This caught Kenny off guard. He turned away to fight off another wave of sadness that sloshed around in his stomach. The blonde shifted and spun around. Sitting indian style, he brought two fingers deftly to the zipper on his hoodie. The teeth unhooking mixed with the sound of the TV and he opened the ripped orange jacket.

"It's mostly up here," Kenny said before letting the jacket slide off his threadlike arms to reveal a baggy white t-shirt underneath. He pointed to his neck. The raven rose from his chair and crossed the room, sitting down next to Kyle.

"Okay," the redhead murmured, reaching toward the end table where his phone rested beside the clock. Kyle leaned forward and observed the mark, noticing a spot where the blonde's skin was swelling. He raised the phone and quickly navigated to camera mode. The shutter sounded and Kenny's abused face was immortalized in digital form. "Can you take off your shirt so I can get the whole thing? That looks really swollen."

Kenny nodded and reached for the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it up over his head. He was almost like a skeleton. His ribs poked from his chest and his belly sucked inward. Kyle had never seen a kid so skinny before, and he was afraid even the lightest touch would break him. It was amazing the man hadn't killed him.

He snapped a few more pictures, getting several different angles of the damage. There was a bruise on Kenny's ribs under the arm. A discolored mark spanned the circumference of Kenny's wrist, and so Kyle recorded that as well. His breath hitched. A long awkward silence had befallen the room unbeknownst to Kyle. It hadn't occurred to him until he'd glanced up at Kenny's damaged face and caught a slight twisted grin that there had been anything strange.

Their eyes met for a long time and the blonde grew increasingly cocky. Kenny's eyes seemed to spell trouble. Like a fisher reeling in a feisty catch from some dismal sea, the blonde licked his lips. Uncrossing his legs, the frail boy leaned back and supported himself on his hands and knees. Jutting his chest out and arching his back, he basked in the attention. It wasn't a bother that his orange sweats were slack around his waist, exposing the hem of dark gray underwear that clung to his hips. The redhead felt the breath go out of him and he pushed away a million horrible thoughts.

"How bad is it?" asked Stan, drawing Kyle's attention. Stan shifted next to him to see the bruises, their hips pressed together.

"Could be worse, I think. A-any other marks, dude?" Kyle stammered after a long moment. He glanced awkwardly to the screen, noticing they had been kicked from the server they'd been playing on. The soft green glow of the television washed over Kenny.

"There's kind of a bad one here," the blonde replied, pointing to his abdomen. There was a light purple mark that began at his lower abdomen and disappeared inside the gray elastic band. Stan coughed lightly and reached for a soda can propped next to him on a table. The redhead was suddenly aware of his boyfriend's intense silence. Kenny acknowledged it with a soft lull of his head to the side. The black haired man was utterly entranced and his knees were pressed tightly together. His thumb ran up and down the tin fretfully.

"A-alright," the redhead said. The couple looked to one another dubiously, both very uncomfortable. When the blonde lifted his hips their attention reverted.

Kenny's knees bent while he grabbed both layers of his pants and slid them down on one side. The cloth creased and uncovered the dip of his inner thigh where a small bruise had formed. Kyle's deep green eyes twitched in their sockets and scanned the tender flesh between his legs. The redhead snapped another picture quickly. Silence continued to perforate the room, and the blonde was unabashed by the intense stares of the men around him. The twenty-something men glanced at one another searchingly, waiting for the other to say something. When neither of them did, Kenny licked his lips and pushed his pants further down.

Exposing the thicker white flesh of his thighs, the blonde ceased momentarily. Stan coughed as if to start a sentence, but fell back into silence. Looking up into Kyle's face with a grin, Kenny started sliding his pants further down, using both hands and going more quickly. He writhed on the ground for a few moments, teasingly and slowly exposing the milky flesh of his hips.

"Th-that's all I need, dude," the redhead told him. "You can stop."

"I know," the blonde whispered. The young jew had already set the phone on the couch and he struggled to find the will to stop him. His back ached with tension and butterflies filled his stomach. A lurching in his pants sent a pang of fear up his neck, but he couldn't find the will to stop the boy. He was under a spell, and the way his boyfriend seemed to take a similar liking gave him an excitement he didn't know what to do with.

Orange and gray slipped down, freeing Kenny's confined penis. Once that threshold had been broken the boy moved more briskly. The tight underwear caught on his knobby knees before rolling down the round flesh of the backs of his ankles. The boy leaned back on his hands again, spreading his knees apart invitingly with a grin. He was so sure of himself.

Kyle didn't want to admit that he was enjoying it, but there it was. He was hard as a rock in his pants, and glancing down at the ultra skinny jeans of his boyfriend he found the same kind of thick bulge. The kind of comfort they'd enjoyed with other guys seemed distant to Kyle. No, that was something different. It was kind of routine after this many years. You could go out and find a random hookup and break off all contact with the guy afterward. But the ease which he felt, freely eyeing the skinny boy's naked body, was eerily close to that which he felt with Stan himself. Or at least, he thought so. It wasn't so clear.

"What happened to taking pictures?" Kenny asked. Breaking the silence seemed to jar both men back into reality, and Stan began to stammer for words. Bashful, they looked to one another with guilty expressions as if to apologize. It was then that Stan felt a pressure against his crotch. Kyle must have felt it too, because he went silent again.

They both glanced quickly down and saw that Kenny had scooted closer to the couch. He was laying back with his sock-covered feet in the air, massaging the men's hardons through their jeans. Kyle squirmed, but Stan sat still, his eyes hazy. Breathing overcame the light murmur of the television. The blonde was confident when neither man moved to run away. Pulling his legs back, the blonde gracefully rolled forward onto his knees. His lips were in a soft pout and he moved like a cat, swaying his hips. Grabbing their legs, Kenny lifted himself level with their bellies.

"K-Kyle, we should-" the raven stammered. But when the boy's hand cupped his groin, he seemed to lose track of his thoughts. His eyes half lidded he pressed against his boyfriend, half aware of the arm that snaked around his midsection from behind.

Kenny's hands pawed at both men's crotches with eagerness. He wasn't so skilled that he knew how to pace himself, but he knew he needed to go slow as not to ruin the mood. There would be sex tonight, he was determined. A subtle nervousness teased at the back of his head, but he kicked it out when the raven pressed upward into his hand. The other man rewarded him with a similar motion. Comparing the two, Kenny knew the raven was the bigger of the pair. He could barely contain the entirety of the bulge. Usually, it was the soft featured redhead Kenny wanted more. But right then, he needed Stan.

Hoisting himself over the men's knees and awkwardly hovering above their laps, the blonde lowered his face to Stan's lap. He tugged at the tight jeans and was rewarded with a delectable pop of the button there. In his other hand, he'd already unzipped Kyle and was searching frantically for the slit in his underwear. Both men's breaths were ragged.

Kyle's eyes closed and he leaned his head against his boyfriend's shoulder, moaning lightly when his sex was freed from his pants. The boy's cold fingers couldn't quite wrap all the way around it, but that didn't keep the redhead from feeling his lower body lurch. He was suddenly aware of the small trickle of sweat that ran down his back and he wondered how long he'd been stuck with his back against that couch. Finally relaxed, the guilt a distant memory, he placed a gentle hand on Kenny's slender shoulder. A small bubble of precum glistened at the tip before breaking and trickling down the shaft, wetting Kenny's palm.

After watching the redhead for a moment, Kenny's eyes shifted to the partially undone front of the other man's jeans. Stan was still silent when the blonde rose up over his lap and pressed his face down. He gasped when the boy grabbed the zipper with his teeth and pulled tantalizingly slow. The teeth of his jeans fell with little trouble and the front of his pants opened to expose a tight black g-string with a skull emblazoned on the front. Kenny marveled at it, his breath seizing before he became frantic in his motions. His shoulders hunched forward and he pulled at the edges of the small cloth with his fingers, breathing against Stan's abdomen in short hurried bursts.

Stan was almost free before he pressed both hands against the blonde's tiny shoulders. Kenny was ripped away and nearly fell backward, fighting against the weight. One firm hand against his chest sent him back to his ass on the floor. The raven was breathing heavily when he stood, and he fumbled with his jeans, his attempt to redo the button foiled by his hardness.

"I-It's time you got a shower," Stan stammered. Kyle groaned in disappointment and lost composure, falling in step with his boyfriend and hiding away his own sex. He didn't question the intervention, though his body was screaming at him to get more. Neither man risked looking at the naked boy again.

"With you?" Kenny questioned in a high disheartened voice.

"By yourself," Stan replied breathily. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the other man's wrist, dragging him somewhat forcefully to his feet. "There's towels in the bathroom closet. C'mon Kyle, I need to sleep before work."

"Okay," Kyle replied, forgetting his phone and his wits. He could hear the frustrated growl from the blonde boy from behind, questioning the decision and padding lightly after them. Before he knew it, the door to their bedroom clicked shut and Stan locked it. Kenny's footsteps stopped in front of the door and stayed for a few moments. His back to the door, Stan stared through the soft rays of street lights from the window at Kyle's face. They watched each other breathlessly for a minute until the bathroom door closed and rushing water turned on. Before Kyle could say anything, Stan shoved him toward the bed. "S-Stan, what-"

"Shh," Stan murmured, climbing on top of him. His hands fumbled clumsily in the dark for his boyfriend's slacks. He arched his back and slumped his shoulders forward, pressing their lips together hungrily. The redhead sighed against his boyfriend's cherry flavored tongue and soon felt his legs catching a light draft. He kicked his pants off and was immediately accosted, Stan's lips sucking on his neck now. He let out a quiet moan but stifled it when Stan's cock pressed against his. The raven wrapped his hand around the both of them and Kyle bucked. "W-we can't do something like that," Stan breathed bitterly, his eyes locked on Kyle's.

"I-I know," Kyle breathed with a nod. Stan frowned and lowered his head to bite down lightly on the redhead's neck. Their hips buckled together and it took them only a few minutes to work up to it. The redhead came first, his tip bursting against the raven's shaft. Bringing a hand up to his mouth, Kyle bit down to stifle the moan that threatened to give their activity away. From the guest bathroom, he could hear Kenny moving around. When his hips finally stopped jerking, Kyle realized how wrong everything had been. He realized with sudden urgency that he could have done something horrible to that kid had Stan not intervened.

It was with this in mind that he didn't stop his boyfriend from slipping up his chest and practically shoving his cock down Kyle's throat. His mouth gaped open painfully, but with practiced ease Stan's member slid inside. Grabbing a fist full of Kyle's dark red curls, the raven's hips moved, slowly but surely. Saliva poured from Kyle's mouth in streams down his cheeks, creating the slickness his boyfriend loved so much. It was but for this that Stan could control himself, and soon his hips were jerking. He didn't bother restraining the delayed groan when his cock twitched and he came. Kyle never liked swallowing, but he took it as punishment. Lingering there for a moment, Stan waited for the wet gulps to finish before he rolled his hips back, resting lightly on the redhead's chest. They both panted and sat staring at each other.

"...We can never do this again," Stan told him quietly. Kyle bit his lip but nodded. But the afterglow didn't bring the same resolve for him as it did for the raven.


End file.
